The Day After
by gomababe
Summary: A quick fic about the aftermath of the Scottish Parliamentary elections held on 5th May 2011. Rated for swearing on England's part and is actually mostly a family fic.


The first thing that met Scotland's eyes when he checked the BBC new website the morning after the election was a wide sea of yellow covering the vast majority of his house. The Celtic nation grinned,

"Landslide victory, and using a far more complicated system than AV at that." He noted with a chuckle, "England is gonnae hate me fer weeks." Scotland was rather pleased with the results of his most recent Parliamentary election, his people had spoken and it seemed the vast majority were completely fed up of all the other major parties that were present in UK politics. He quickly closed the tab to the BBC website and instead opened up his email inbox, drafting a letter to congratulate his First Minister in what was clearly an historic achievement. He thought about what this might mean for him as a nation, he'd been ruled over by the politicians in London for over 300 years by this point and had grown comfortable with the idea over time; after all he had benefitted massively from the rise of the British Empire and had time to truly reflect on what it was to be a nation. It also gave him a chance to grow up out of his pettiness. During the last 30 years, however, the divide between himself and his youngest brother had only become more and more apparent. Scotland was simply a country that historically leaned further to the left than England and with the current recession biting everyone in the arse, that simple fact was enough to further divide the people in the two countries.

What really irked Scotland at the moment was the fact that he was always being told that the only reason he existed any more was because England was generous enough to give him a handout. That was true back in the 18th century, when his economy had crashed and burned badly enough that he'd had no other choice but to enter into the Union. These days, however, the whole argument had been turned on its head; Scotland sent more revenue to the UK coffers than he ever saw in return. He knew, of course, that the oil field wasn't going to last forever, but that was hardly the point when he had proportionally more people living in poverty than the rest of his brothers still in the Union combined. Scotland shook his head,

"Ach, nae use worrying aboot a' that rubbish." He muttered to himself, "Might as well go oot an' enjoy masel'." He nodded and grabbed his coat, wallet and keys and swept out of his Edinburgh flat to go to the nearest bar to celebrate with his people.

...

England glared at his phone when his call was automatically redirected to Scotland's voicemail,

"Bloody git is probably nursing a hell of a hangover." He muttered. Wales quirked an eyebrow as he came into the kitchen and put the kettle back on to boil,

"What's the matter with you, _Lloegr_?" he asked innocently, ignoring the glare his twin gave him in return. England snorted as he put his mobile back down on the counter to charge for a while,

"I'm trying to get a hold of Scotland and the bugger's phone is switched off." He snipped. Wales shrugged,

"Probably got a hangover or something, he did seem pretty pleased with himself when I last spoke to him on Thursday night." He said, getting a mug for both himself and England, "Going by the Scottish election results he'll have been out celebrating for most of the day." He added. England groaned as he sat down at the table,

"He's never going to let me hear the end of this is he?" he asked, burying his head into his arms. Wales smirked,

"No, think of it as payback for you annoying him about not getting into the World Cup last year and always going on about 1966." England sent the Welshman another sharp glare, but suddenly realised something,

"Oh bugger." He exclaimed as he thumped his head off the table, "Now the idiot's going to be going on and on about that goddamned referendum for Scottish independence." Wales patted England on the shoulder in sympathy,

"At least he's not fighting a war over it like Ireland did, and he'll still be a part of the Commonwealth if it passes." He said, "Hell, his people might decide not to bother with independence. He's got a pretty good deal at the moment." He added, in an attempt to make his brother feel better. England didn't lift his head off the table, settling instead for muttering various curses into it. Wales sighed, obviously his brother would rather sit and feel sorry for himself this morning. He shuffled back over to the counter and sorted the tea for himself and England and merely placed the mug next to his twin's head,

"When you feel like acting like a grown nation, I'll be in the living room." He said, picking up his own tea and grabbing the biscuit barrel on the way out. England merely grunted in response and continued glaring at the tabletop down his nose. He didn't even bother moving when someone knocked on the front door. Northern Ireland answered it, realising that neither of his two older brothers were going to bother right now,

"Englaaaaaand, France is here!" he called, "D'you want me to kick him off Dover cliffs for you?" he asked. England lifted his head off the table, what was France doing here?

"Don't bother Patrick, I can handle it." He called back, getting up and making himself look a little more presentable. Northern Ireland shrugged at France and scurried back up the stairs to his room. France sighed as he waited for England to come to the door, it was too early to really be dealing with any of the British nations right now. England finally made it to the doorway and glared at the Frenchman,

"You'd better have a really good excuse for being here this early frog!" he snapped, "Hurry up, my tea's getting cold!" France snorted and glared right back at him,

"It's nice to see you too _rosbif_." He replied, "Are either _Ecosse _ or Canada 'ere? I've been trying to get a hold of them both, but their phones are switched off." England rolled his eyes a little,

"Scotland's probably up in Edinburgh nursing a hangover right about now, you'd be best going there yourself to find out. As for Canada... why would he even be here?" he asked. France frowned a little,

"Well, _Amerique_ called me an hour ago to ask if _mon petit_ were at my house since 'e does not appear to be at 'ome." He said, becoming quite worried. England frowned a little,

"That's odd," he muttered, "is America sure that he's definitely not at home? It wouldn't be the first time that America's been convinced that the house is empty when Canada's been standing right in front of him." France shook his head,

"_Non, _America said that they were due to meet up to discuss Canada's election results." He said, clearly becoming worried now. England thought for a moment,

"Let me get changed into decent clothes and we can ask Scotland if he's heard from the lad, the two of them are very close." He suggested. France nodded, trying not to panic over the idea that his 'son' had apparently disappeared off the face of the planet. He followed England inside and waited for the other nation to return.

...

England rapped on the door to Scotland's Edinburgh flat,

"Angus, you'd better be up already!" he called. When, at first, there was no response, England glared at the wooden structure and raised his hand to bang on the door a bit harder. Just as he raised his arm the door creaked open,

"Jesus Christ Arthur, can ye keep the noise doon?" Scotland groaned, "'S too early tae be shoutin' an' yellin' like tha'." England huffed a little,

"Not my fault you decided to spend the better half of yesterday out drinking." He shot back. Scotland sent his brother a stony glare,

"I'll have you know I wis only oot fer about three hours yesterday afore I had tae come back here." He growled. He sent a softer look to France, who was standing just behind England, wringing his hands in worry, "Dinnae panic, Francis, he ended up stayin' here last night." France visibly deflated in relief,

"_Remerciez Dieu."_ He sighed, "I was getting very worried that _Matheui_ 'ad gone and done something silly." Scotland chuckled a little as he let England and France into the flat,

"Nah, Mata's got a decent heid on those shoulders o' his. He just wanted tae ask me aboot one or two things." He led England and France into the sitting room, where a sleepy looking Canada was sitting next to the window. The younger nation sent them all a sleepy smile,

"Good morning," he greeted, trying to stifle a yawn, "sorry time difference is getting me, eh." France immediately gathered the Arctic nation into a hug, while England stood back, watching the scene with a disapproving look on his face,

"Well I hope you're bloody pleased with yourself Matthew, you've only gone and given France, myself and America a bloody heart attack over nothing." He snapped. Canada looked up at England with a jerk,

E...eh?" he asked, "H...how come?" he asked, shrinking back as England glared at him, going into full 'angry overprotective parent mode'. The English nation pulled himself up to his full height,

"How come? How come? Goddamnit Canada, you just decide to come over and visit Scotland without even bothering to tell anyone where you were going!" he screamed, "America has been looking for you for the last several hours! France has been trying to call you since God knows what time and you turn around and wonder why we were all worried sick about where you were? You're supposed to be the sensible one, start bloody acting like it!" Canada remained silent the entire way through England's rant, head bowed. Scotland sighed,

"Well that wis a guid start to the day." He muttered sarcastically. He turned to his brother, "Ye done now?" he asked. England glared at him,

"For now, yes." He said sharply. Scotland nodded and looked over to France and Canada,

"I'll go get some tea and coffee then, try no' tae kill each other a'right?" he directed the statement to France and England, though he wanted to make sure England was fully done with Canada as well. As the Celtic nation wandered into the kitchen, Canada wrapped his arms around himself, looking utterly miserable,

"I... I'm sorry for making you guys worry." He muttered, "I... I only intended on being here a couple of hours..." France hushed him before he could say anything else,

"It's alright _mon cher,_ all that matters is that we know you're safe." He assured the younger nation. England sighed and came over to crouch in front of Canada, like he used to do when he had been a small colony,

"Look, Matthew, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that, but when France mentioned that you'd been missing for several hours I immediately thought something had happened to you." Canada glanced up at England with a small smile,

"I... it's ok, I'd be pretty mad at me too. I just lost track of time and I completely forgot that I was meeting up with Alfred." At that point Scotland returned from the kitchen, carrying several mugs,

"I can tak' the blame fer that." He admitted, handing France, England and Canada their drinks, "We got chattin' aboot the elections an' by the time we finished it wis far too late tae send the laddie back hame so I let him crash fer the night." England shook his head with another sigh,

"It doesn't really matter now, we know where Matthew is and we can let America know before he decides Russia kidnapped his brother and tries to launch an invasion." Canada looked up at England with wide eyes,

"A... Alfred wouldn't go that far... would he?" he asked nervously. France brought out his phone as England replied,

"You know Alfred, once he gets an idea into his head he won't stop until he finds out otherwise." Canada jumped as France suddenly began talking,

"I'm calling _Amerique_ now, might as well let him know 'is brother is safe before 'he does anything stupid." Scotland nodded,

"Aye, the last thing we need is fer WWIII tae kick off o'er some stupid misunderstandin'." He said, watching as France finally got through to the North American nation,

"Ah, America, you can stop looking for Canada now, 'e is with _Ecosse_ right now." France said, pausing as America replied, presumably in relief,

"_Oui, oui, _ I know, but 'e is perfectly alright. _Oui, _'e is right 'ere, 'old on." France offered Canada his phone, "Your brother wants to talk with you." He said. Canada took the phone hesitantly before speaking into it,

"H... hey Alfred," he greeted, only to hold the phone away from his ear as America yelled at him from the other end. When America stopped yelling he put the phone back to his ear,

"L... look I... I'm sorry for not calling you but... I didn't realise my cell phone was dead." He finished lamely. Scotland ushered England and France into the kitchen, leaving Canada to talk to his brother in relative privacy. Ten minutes later, Canada came through and gave France his phone back before slumping into an empty chair at the table,

"What'd the idiot have tae say?" he asked. Canada snorted a little in amusement,

"Well after making triply sure I was ok he started launching into this ridiculous tirade against crappy Spring weather and how much he hates it and can't wait for Summer to start." England winced,

"I noticed that, floods in some places, drought in others, some very strong tornadoes... hell, he's still getting snow in some places. In May!" he exclaimed, utterly scandalised that the weather could even do that. Scotland snorted in amusement,

"Pretty sure the ski slopes up here wouldnae mind haein' some o' that tae extend the season a wee bit further." He noted, "Still, he's gettin' a raw deal by the sounds o' it." France looked at England,

"You sound rather upset that America's weather is so bad right now, _mon cher_, and yet your own seems to be so much better than usual." He smirked a little, causing Canada to start giggling while Scotland smirked as well. England scoffed,

"If you're implying that I sent all my bad weather to America's house in exchange for something decent for once, then I can most certainly assure you that is not the case." He retorted, "I could actually do with a spot of rain right about now." Scotland nodded his agreement,

"I could dae wi' a bit o' rain masel', it's far too warm tae be allowed right now." Canada laughed,

"Typical Brits complaining about the weather, eh?" he said to France, "Now I know where Alfred got it from." France chuckled,

"Well at least they agree on something, _oui_?" Canada nodded in agreement. But then Scotland suddenly seemed to remember something,

"Oh aye, afore I forget and while ye're here France." The Scotsman turned to France a grin on his face, "Set up a seat fer me at the next conference will ye? Might as well start gettin' involved wi' that referendum coming roon' the corner." France blinked in confusion while England started to glare at his brother. Canada hid a quiet smile in his coffee as England started bickering with Scotland about why the older nation should get involved before the referendum even took place, at least things were more or less back to the way they should be for now.


End file.
